University Press of Mississippi, 1999

Among the many things we can blame the 1960s for is the end of the Golden Age of family automobile travel. Ten-hour days of being beaten by a hot, 55-mile-an-hour wind while trying to hear scratchy AM radio stations over the noise of the air and the tires. Sticking hands out the open window to make airfoils, waving a porch-sitters who were watching the passing traffic. (Usually they waved back.) Holding your breath over bridges, counting cows and horses. (A white horse doubled your score.) Reading Burma-Shave signs, and arguing about where the exact middle of the back seat was.